The Passerby Hidden Guard Picked Up the Villain [Transmigration] - Chapter 1

It was a quarter past six in the morning when He Yanzhi’s black-clad figure finally sauntered into view.

Inside a rammed-earth oven, several flatbreads were about to be ready, surrounded by a swirling mist of hot, fragrant steam. Seeing He Yanzhi arrive, the stall owner lifted the lid as usual, used a pair of tongs to pluck out the freshest, most thoroughly baked flatbread, and delivered it to him while it was still piping hot.

He Yanzhi took his usual seat and began to gnaw on the bread. As he chewed, he stared blankly at the geese floating in the river.

The morning roll call had finished, and the sound of wooden paddles hitting flesh began to echo from the yamen, accompanied by cries of pain that grew louder and more frequent.

He Yanzhi could not help himself; he let out a yawn.

A few bailiffs dressed in the same uniform ran past him. They glanced at the man who was still leisurely eating his breakfast and sighed in unison.

“Let us go, let us go. How could we possibly compare to him?” With pained expressions, the men hurried into the yamen.

The flatbread was a bit dry. He Yanzhi poured a cup of water and swallowed the last bite of his meal. Because he drank haphazardly, a few drops of water escaped the cup, trickling down his chin and neck before disappearing into his collar.

The crystal droplets slid slowly across his fine, fair skin. A local thug, who had been loitering on the streets all night, felt his eyes go wide at the sight of He Yanzhi.

Seeing no one else around, the thug swaggered over to He Yanzhi’s table.

“Yo, beautiful. Why are you eating bread all by yourself? You are late for roll call, so you must be scared of getting beaten and having your pay docked!”

He Yanzhi ignored him, but a foul, stenching smell of alcohol slowly drifted closer.

“What is so good about bread? Come with me! Forget the silver and the paddles. Follow me and I will make sure you are living the high life. As long as you give me a kiss, I will give you anything you want!”

The thug grinned lecherously. Looking at He Yanzhi’s jade-white, slender hands, he reached out to touch them. Suddenly, he felt an agonizing pain in his lower leg, as if the bone had been snapped clean in two.

He lost his balance and crashed to the ground. His head slammed against the corner of the table, and a purple-green bruise swelled up instantly.

No one saw how He Yanzhi had made his move. He poured another cup of water, and his current reflection stared back at him from the surface.

His eyes were shimmering and full of life. Every tilt of his head or backward glance held an indescribable beauty.

He Yanzhi downed the water with a look of pure disgust.

Six months ago, he had been a deep-cover agent who died in the line of duty while saving a hostage. Subsequently, he had transmigrated into this fictional, high-stakes political power fantasy novel, ending up in this body.

He had a face like a peach blossom and a body like a frail willow.

He Yanzhi had tried everything, such as growing a beard, staying up all night, or swallowing chili peppers, but nothing could diminish his beauty by even a fraction. On the contrary, his efforts only made his already thin frame look even more gaunt.

He tried to work on his physique, waking up early to exercise and eating meat and wine to bulk up. After a period of hard work, his wallet had slimmed down and he had grown some muscle, but it was not much. He was still a hundred thousand miles away from being sturdy.

He Yanzhi eventually gave up. Now, he gnawed on flatbread, drank plain water, dressed sloppily, tied his hair haphazardly, and sprawled out on the ground whenever he was tired. Unfortunately, even though he lived such a rough lifestyle, that face still attracted plenty of “salty pigs.”

“Fine. It is just skin.”

If they came, he would just beat them up one by one.

The wailing at his feet grew louder and more irritating. He Yanzhi, annoyed, kicked the man a great distance away. Just then, a hand landed on his left shoulder.

“To think this fellow gets to keep his leg; it seems Brother He is in a good mood today.”

He Yanzhi looked toward the voice. The sunlight was a bit blinding, making him squint. The person behind him stepped forward and sat on a nearby long bench, calling out to the stall owner for two flatbreads.

“You blind trash, get lost! Or do you want a trip inside the yamen?”

Scared off by the shout, the thug scrambled away on all fours. He Yanzhi finally saw who it was.

Once the bread arrived, Yang Kuan stacked the two pieces together, folded them in half, and took a massive bite that finished off most of it. Predictably, he began to choke, looking around frantically for water.

A nine-foot-tall giant of a man was turning beet-red from a piece of bread. He fumbled across the table with his large hands, failing to find the teapot. Unable to watch any longer, He Yanzhi reached out and poured him a cup.

With the water down, Yang Kuan finally caught his breath and immediately prepared to shove the rest of the bread into his mouth.

He Yanzhi watched him and remarked casually, “The bailiffs start their shift at the Hour of the Dragon. What is your hurry?”

Yang Kuan spoke with a mouthful of bread. “Who can compare to you, Brother He? You can skip a day and no one dares touch you. I have only got the time it takes for a cup of tea before I am late. I do not dare linger.”

He Yanzhi thought to himself that this man was usually late anyway. If he was rushing today, there must be something important happening.

“Brother He, you are here so early today. Could it be for that case?” Yang Kuan asked after swallowing.

He Yanzhi was usually lazy; one would typically not see him in front of the yamen until 7:45 AM. Today, he was a full hour early.

He Yanzhi gave him a look, and Yang Kuan understood immediately. Both men fell silent, sharing a tacit understanding. After all, it was the case of Right Vice-Chancellor Xiao; subordinates like them should not wag their tongues.

When the Hour of the Dragon arrived, the two entered the yamen to begin their shifts. He Yanzhi took his authority staff and stood in his designated spot in the hall according to the rules.

There was still some time before the court session began. He looked around idly, privately calculating his earnings for the past few days, and his brow furrowed slightly.

A bailiff’s monthly salary of two mace of silver really was not enough to fill the gaps between his teeth.

Since accepting the reality of his transmigration, he had tried to recall information from the book. Having skimmed it a few times in his past life, he soon discovered that the person he had become was actually the seventeenth underling of the protagonist, He Yu, Prince of Xizhou. He was the most ruthless and deeply hidden shadow guard in the entire novel.

He was so ruthless that no one dared provoke him, and so hidden that he only existed in a single sentence from the protagonist at the end of the book: “He Yanzhi’s strikes are the most precise in their severity.”

He Yanzhi reasonably suspected that no one dared provoke him because hardly anyone knew he existed.

It was currently the sixth year of the Dali era, still at the very beginning of the story. He Yanzhi had over a million words worth of time to do nothing.

Thus, based on his single sentence of character information, he had found a job as a bailiff, specifically specializing in flogging. After all, he could not let himself starve to death.

As everyone knew, flogging was a skilled trade. Striking too lightly was nepotism; striking too hard was a vendetta. If you killed the person, you might get a reward; if you crippled them, you might pay with your life.

He Yanzhi, relying on his professional skills of observation, had flourished in the yamen.

While he was lost in thought, the other bailiffs arrived one after another. They all froze for a moment upon seeing him, then honestly lined up behind him.

“Why is he here too? It looks like that young master is doomed!”

“Of course. This is a charge of rebellion, after all.”

“With Lord He taking action, I bet someone has already issued a death order. What a pity, he is so young.”

They whispered for a moment before falling silent. Once the Prefect sat behind the official desk and struck the gavel, the court session officially began.

The person to be tried today was Xiao Hongyin, the legitimate son of Right Vice-Chancellor Xiao.

The Xiao family had been caught hoarding munitions and, half a month ago, had been sentenced to the execution of their entire clan for treason. Vice-Chancellor Xiao and his wife, unable to endure the torture, had committed suicide in the Dali Temple prison. The fifteen-year-old Xiao Hongyin, who had been traveling in Xizhou at the time, had been captured and brought back for brutal interrogation regarding the location of the munitions.

At the Prefect’s command, two bailiffs dragged a frail youth into the hall. A trail of dried blood marked the floor behind him.

The youth was dragged all the way to the front, stopping right before He Yanzhi.

The Prefect spoke: “You there, do you plead guilty?”

In the face of the interrogation, Xiao Hongyin lay slumped on the ground, motionless. Seeing this, He Yanzhi stepped forward to pull the boy up without needing a signal from the Prefect.

The moment he touched him, He Yanzhi felt that the boy was as weak as a paper doll; a little too much force would tear him apart. He was able to grip the boy’s forearm completely with one hand, easily lifting him from the floor and arranging him into a kneeling position facing the court.

A pale, delicate face peeked out from beneath messy hair. He Yanzhi was curious about what this future villain looked like, so he could not resist stealing a glance.

Grime and dried blood covered nearly his entire face, leaving only the area around his eyes clear.

He Yanzhi could not see much, but he figured that as a son of a prestigious family, the boy’s appearance would not be poor.

The Prefect struck the gavel again. Xiao Hongyin’s brow furrowed, and he began to collapse again. He Yanzhi moved quickly to support him, resetting his posture. At the same time, Xiao Hongyin struggled to open his eyes. He Yanzhi happened to look down and met the youth’s gaze.

Such clean eyes.

He Yanzhi returned to his position. Seeing that Xiao Hongyin finally had a reaction, the Prefect continued the questioning.

“Xiao Hongyin, confess honestly where the munitions are hidden. This official may consider your youth and show mercy by leaving your corpse intact. If you remain unrepentant, then do not blame this official for being heartless!”

The youth had only just opened his eyes and had not yet recovered from his previous floggings. Facing the “Justice and Honor” plaque above, he stared blankly for a long time, appearing utterly estranged from his surroundings.

The Prefect’s patience was limited. The execution tally in his hand was poised to drop. “I ask you one more time! Will you confess or not?”

The people in the hall were accustomed to such scenes, but this young master was the son of a Chancellor. To fall from the clouds into the mire so suddenly inevitably stirred some secret pity.

He Yanzhi kept his eyes on Xiao Hongyin. Seeing him so despondent and lifeless, he realized that while the boy still had a breath left in him, he was likely already dead inside.

He thought it was no wonder the boy would later commit a massacre for the sake of revenge. Once someone has died once, they have nothing left to fear.

Under the Prefect’s pressure, Xiao Hongyin finally regained a sliver of consciousness. However, he was in no hurry to answer. Instead, he stole a glance in He Yanzhi’s direction.

“The Xiao family is innocent.”

The youth’s dry, raspy voice echoed in the hall, drifting lightly past everyone’s ears.

Upon hearing this, the Prefect took on a look that said, “I knew it would be so,” and heartlessly threw down the tally. “Men! Take him down for a hundred strokes of the cane!” He then glanced at He Yanzhi, who gave a slight nod.

According to the laws of the Dali era, the sons of prestigious families who were found guilty could not be subjected to capital punishment.

The Prefect’s intent now was for He Yanzhi to hold back and not beat the boy to death.

However, He Yanzhi had already accepted silver from an employer several days ago. Xiao Hongyin’s life was something he absolutely had to take.

“Conduct a city-wide search for the Xiao family’s hidden munitions. Not a single place is to be missed. Court adjourned!”

Yang Kuan and the other bailiffs were called up. Once they received their orders, they did not dare delay for a second. The Prefect and the Secretary left the hall, and the others gradually followed.

He Yanzhi picked up the tally and stood before Xiao Hongyin, looking down at him.

“Can you walk?”

He was a villain, after all; he ought to be different from ordinary people. If he could open his eyes, he should be able to walk, saving He Yanzhi the effort of dragging him.

As expected, the youth did not respond. He used his thin hands to push off the cold floor, taking a moment before standing up on his own.

He Yanzhi led the way. He did not care at all if the boy tried to run. Xiao Hongyin, on the other hand, had to stop and rest with every step. A distance of barely a dozen paces took him a long time.

He Yanzhi waited for a moment. Soon, the sound of the person collapsing came from behind him. Expecting this, he leaned down to hoist the boy onto his shoulder, but unexpectedly met the youth’s eyes again.

Amber pupils, like the surface of a lake reflecting the dusk after sunset, were pure, calm, and without a single ripple.

These really should not be the eyes of a villain.

He Yanzhi paused for a few seconds. When he reached out, Xiao Hongyin flinched away.

“What is it?” he asked.

The youth lowered his head, avoiding his gaze, and said, “I will walk by myself.”

Since he insisted, He Yanzhi naturally let him be. However, Xiao Hongyin was far too weak; he struggled for a long time without managing to leave the ground. Unable to stand it any longer, He Yanzhi finally swept him up in a horizontal carry and, under the astonished gazes of the onlookers, strode toward the execution room.